Odd proposals Bring Odd Outcomes
by ZWTFmate
Summary: "Honestly, what did he have to lose? Yeah, it was crazy and petty and could completely ruin their friendship, but damn if those cupcakes weren't worth it." Future-fic
1. A Metaphorical Prime Ape

At seventeen years old, Buford Van Stromm was still the same person he'd always been: the Bully. He was still hulking, though now it was less because of adolescent chubbiness and more to do with heavy work-out sessions and intense after-school practices (Bully Code 156; all bullies play football). His jaw-line had squared off and he had lost the protruding lower tooth (Knocked out in a fist-fight. Beat the guy to a pulp. It was awesome.), but his glare was still as, menacing as ever.. Because of this he was used to eyes being on him at all times, whether trembling nerds hoping to steer clear of his path or cocky punks wanting a challenge. But he knew the difference between being stared at and being watched.

And though Buford wasn't a horribly perceptive guy, he knew that today, he was being watched.

He first felt it during third period. He had been staring at the blackboard with glazed-over eyes since the beginning of the lesson. Everyone thought he was just too dumb to understand what the teacher was talking about, which might have been true in his other classes, but this time, he already knew it all. French was kind of his bitch.

He was halfway to daydreaming about putting a nerd into a Half Nelson when he felt it. The distinct feeling of being aware of someone being aware of you. He started, snorting slightly and snapping his head in the direction he felt the aware-ness come from. But before he could figure out who it was, the bell rang and everyone stood and began leaving. All he could see was a flash of pink zoom by into the exiting crowd.

The second time was at lunch. He was heading into the cafeteria after tossing some scrawny freshman into a nearby dumpster. The horrified squeak and satisfying sound of body hitting rotting garbage gave him the urge for a tuna sandwich. When he reached the lunch-line, he suddenly felt like a gorilla at on of those wildlife observation tours. He took a sweep of the cafeteria. Phineas was sitting drawing out a contraption that made natural-organic-nutritious-power-buildingng processed corn on a napkin, Ferb was texting five girls at a time in one of the corners, Baljeet was color-coding his condiments (ugh, creepy...) and in a far-off table was a group of girls.

One of them, he couldn't tell who, ducked her head and turned to the little red-head next to her.

He tried to brush it off and continued on, though he couldn't get rid of the metaphorical prime-ape feeling.

The last time was at his locker. School had just ended and he was stopping by his locker to get a few things before practice. He noticed someone in his peripherals facing in his direction. He waited to see if they would turn around or walk away, but when they didn't, he tried rolling his eyes inconspicuously in their direction.

He met the gaze of Isabella Garcia-Shapiro.

He blinked and looked again. Sure enough, she was still there. She was still as thin as she had always been (apparently to her mothers dismay), though now it was more like a ballerina-like slim. Her ebony hair was even longer and had acquired a slight wave which was held in place with a hair clip instead of bow. Her eyes were still a dark deep blue, and at the moment they were looking right at him.

His brow furrowed in confusion. Of all the people to be watching him, he would have never thought of Isabella. Sure they talked and stuff when they were with Phineas and Ferb, but outside of the gang their interaction with each other was minimal. Why the heck would she spend the day watching _him_?

As if she could read his mind (which would be scary), she closed her locker and headed toward him. She stood a few feet away, hands primly clasping her books and giving him a one-over with a look of intense concentration. The next moments of silence made Buford uncomfortable, and when Buford was uncomfortable, he went on the offensive.

"Can I help you with something?" He snapped, giving her his best glare.

His expression did not have the valued affect (which is usually the case with Isabella), for her face cracked into a huge grin. "Yes," she replied. "Yes you can." He was about to tell her that wasn't her line when she quickly added, "Come to my house after practice today." turned on her heel, and skittered away.

His brow furrowed further in more confusion. What was that? Why did Isabella want him to come over? Questions, he decided with a shrug, he'd figure out later. At the moment, he was needed on the field. So he pulled a water bottle out, shoved Baljeet into his locker, and walked down the hall.

** Hey. So. Bufella.**

** I just went there.**

** Read and review, please.**


	2. The Starshape Clock Ticked

The first thing Buford thought when he walked into her room was purple. Then, Jewish. Then he wondered just how old you had to be to be a Fireside Girl, 'cause apparently sixteen is still age appropriate. Then he glanced at the owner of the room. She sat at her vanity, brushing out her hair and humming some fruity-poppy sounding song. He shuffled impatiently and shifted against the closet door.

"So... What do you want?"

She put the brush down and turned to face him, folding her hands on her crossed knee. "I need your help."

"With?..." He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to ask him to move a dresser or something. Because why else would she need him? Whatever it was, he hoped he could just get it done so he could go home. It was spaghetti night tonight, and mom promised to use REAL meatballs and everything.

Isabella took a deep breath and looked at her hands. "I need you... to date me."

There was a pause. He stared at her, hands in his pockets as he listened to the star-shaped clock tick above him. Then he figured out what she said. "You want me to WHAT?"

"Date me." She continued to notice her manicure as she explained. "See, there's... this guy I've been in love with for a long time... since the third grade..."

"Phineas." Buford deadpanned. He didn't wanna say the girl was as obvious as the sun, but that Dinner Bell didn't realize she was head-over-heels for him by now meant he must have had some form of mental retardation along with that creative mind of his. "What's that have to do with me dating you?"

She gave him a small glare before continuing slowly. "...It seems kind of like I've wasted all this time for him to realize how I feel." Her face fell for a second, then she schooled herself back to a confident look. "So I've decided, no more. My plan is to date someone else, and either forget Phineas completely or make him jealous so he'll see he loves me too." The tone of her voice made it apparent which outcome she was hoping for.

Buford blinked slowly, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Wow... You really are crazy." He ignored her glare and asked casually, "So why me?"

"Well, this could be a potentially shallow course of action, so I couldn't ask Ferb and risk ruining the relationship between two brothers. Plus, with his record with girls..." She trailed off and he nodded. Ever since Ferb brought a 22-year old to homecoming, he'd been labeled certified 'Sex God' (or 'Man Whore', depending on who you asked). "And Baljeet is nice, but he's too..." She pursed her lips, looking for the right word. "...Baljeeti. I don't really trust any other boys well enough for something like this, so that just-"

"Leaves me." He finished.

She nodded, looking him in the face with pleading eyes. "So... What d'ya think?"

He leaned against the lilac wallpaper, looking around the room again as he thought. She was right. It _was _shallow. Because from what he was hearing, she wasn't over Phineas, and wasn't gonna be anytime soon, regardless of who's arm she's on. And so if he agreed he'd be a tool. An enabler. Instead of growing out of the crush, he would be helping her bury it deeper which could be potentially harmful in the future. He'd have to have the worst conscience in the world to go through it.

On the other hand..."What's in it for me?"

She blinked, taken aback by this question. He wasn't sure if it was because he wanted something back, or that he might be considering it. "...The satisfying feeling that you're helping a friend and the image of having a cute girlfriend by your side?" She gave him a winning smile.

Buford's face remained stoic. "No, really."

Her smile deflated. "I'll get you a months supply of Fire Side Cupcakes."

His face brightened. "I'm in." And honestly, what did he have to lose? Yeah, it was crazy and petty and could completely ruin their friendship, but damn if those cupcakes weren't worth it.

"Great!" A look of relief swept over her and that 100-watt smile was fixed back on her face. Then she hopped up from her seat, turned and walked over to her bed. "Now come here."

He watched her with disconcerted eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Duh." She rolled her eyes at him and hopped onto the mattress. "So we can make out."

~O~

**Wow, wow. OK, I just realized how crazy this plot is. Oh wow, oh jeez. Well I started it so I'll finish it. K. Wow.**

**R&R on the craziness, if you'd like.**


	3. Some Sort of Fish Taco

After some very, VERY intense kissing ("so we can get comfortable with each other." She had explained afterward while trying to catch her breath), he was pushed off of her. She opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out a notepad (It was pink and had scribbles of "P+I" all over it) and started writing things down. She looked up at his questioning face and grinned.

"We need to plan."

A half an hour later, everything was in order and Buford was then dragged downstairs to be introduced as Isabella's "boyfriend" to her mother. Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro seemed to approve of the relationship ("Oooooh Isa! He's so big and strong! He's a good man for you, Isa. He'll protect you, he'll take care of you."), and another fifteen minutes later he was heading home with some sort of Gefilte fish taco in his hand and Isabella's number on speed dial.

~O~

The next morning, Buford was pummeling that one artsy kid (Dingo? Janga?), when he heard familiar voices. He glanced up to see the Gang coming down the hallway toward him. He noticed Isabella staring longingly at Phineas, who was chatting animatedly to Ferb about putting the school on a hover-craft and letting it float around the tri-state area. He gave a disgruntled sniff. No girl should be pretending to be dating a boy when she's looking like _that_ at another boy. She was blowing her own plan.

He stepped over Dodongo's twitching body and headed slowly in their direction. When he drew closer, she turned her head and locked eyes with him. He clenched his jaw and kept moving forward, watching her nibble her lip whilst keeping in step with the three boys. She paused slightly for a second and glanced slightly to Buford's right. He followed her gaze and saw the boy's restroom. He paused himself, remembering what was said last night:

_"Remember, if you don't want to do this and you want to back out, just go into the bathroom by your locker. I'll understand if you do..." she trailed off for a second before nodding. "Just remember, go into the bathroom."_

He stayed quiet a moment. He glanced at her and saw her watching him cautiously. She was expecting him to go in and to be honest, he kind of expected himself to go in too. Was this really worth it? He started thinking about what the look on his friends' faces will be, the fact that the news of Dansville High's Number One Bully was dating the sweet little Mexican-Jewish Princess would spread like wildfire across campus, those promised Fire Side Cupcakes, the feeling of her lips on his-

He shrugged and continued past it. _Eh, What the Hell. As long as I get my cupcakes._

When he stepped away from the restroom door, a bright smile comparable to last night appeared on Isabella's face and sprinted to him. He stood still when she approached and braced himself for what happened next. She practically launched herself on him, gushing out a "Hi Honey!" and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey." He muttered when she slid off his chest and took his hand. He glanced around and noticed that a few people had stopped and were now watching them, including Baljeet, Ferb and Phineas. Baljeet looked as if he just witnessed a murder, Ferb had an eyebrow raised (equivalent to his mouth hanging down to the floor), and Phineas... only seemed to have a mild mixture of surprised and confused.

She paid no mind to them, though, and smiled wider. "Walk me to class?" She asked and began pulling him down the hall.

"Sure..." He glanced at the threes' eyes follow them and smirked. "Babe."

The rest of the walk to her homeroom was silent on their part. People around them already started whispering, staring at them as they passed by. Isabella seemed to enjoy herself, holding her head high and giving a wink at her Fireside friends (who ran into each other in shock). Buford just glared at everyone.

Soon, they came to a halt and Isabella glanced to her right. "Well, this is my class." She looked him in the eyes and gave his hand a little grateful squeeze (they were still holding hands?). "Thank you." She half-whispered before stepping away and breaking contact. "Meet me here to walk me to history, k?" She then turned and walked into the classroom with a waggle of her fingers over her shoulder.

He watched her go through the doorway and then looked down at his hand. His fingers were slightly curved in like he was grasping at something and the palm felt strangely cold. He made a fist and opened it up a few times, only looking up when he saw some punk looking at him funny. He shot a growl his way and shoved his hand into his jeans, shuffling away before the warning bell rang and wondering what exactly he got himself into.

~O~

** OK, so, I had to do a HUGE rewrite of this chapter because the old version was Suck suck McsuckerDoogle. Hopefully this one's better. Doubt it though.**

**R&R please.**


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